


Geeks Bearing Gifts

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Early in Canon, Firefly References, Fluff, Friendship, Geeky, Gen, Humor, Pop Culture, Season/Series 01, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and his Runners are not quite a well oiled machine, but he's their voice in the dark and Abel's people take care of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A series of (mostly) humourous shorts featuring Sam and his Runners.

“Sam. Catch!”

Sam raises his hands just in time to catch the cloth bundle before it hits him in the face, and he looks over at Jody. “What is it?”

“Clothes run,” she replies cheerfully. “You're looking a bit raggy,” she adds, glancing at his worn sweatshirt and worn jeans and worn, well, everything really. You wear things until they fall apart. 

“Well, 'scuse me, We can't all be post-apocalyptic supermodels,” he says with a grin as he unfolds the small bundle of clothes. New t-shirt, that's good. Underwear, thank god, and a thick black hoodie.

“It's getting colder,” Jody explains. “That tin shack isn't that warm.”

“Aw, thanks Jody,” he says, pulling the hoodie on over the top of what he's wearing. “What d'you think? Abel's next fashion icon?”

She giggles and nods. “It not got blood on it so maybe. Check the pockets.”

“God, standards really have slipped if 'no blood' is all you need to be the height of fash-” He pauses, pulling out two lumps of plastic from the pockets. “What's this? Dinosaurs?”

“Yep,” Jody says. “Simon said you like Firefly and I saw them and well, you're kind of our pilot out there, y'know. Like Wash.”

Sam can't help but grin a little as he looks at the toys like they're the best present ever. Nothing special really, just children's toys, but when you can't exactly just head into town, silly little things like this take on new meaning.”Like Wash minus the Hawaiian shirt and gorgeous competent badass wife.”

“Well, I'll keep my eyes open for the shirt, but you'll just have to cope with me and Alice and Sara being Sam's Angels instead.”

“Oh no, what a hardship,” Sam deadpans, moving to sit the dinosaurs on top of the radio equipment. “I'll take that over Reavers any day.”

“Who wouldn't these days?” Jody asks, her smile just a little strained. “Although,” she adds thoughtfully, “on our last run for entertainment supplies, Simon did pick up copies of Shaun of the Dead and 28 Days Later so...”

“It _is_ Simon,” Sam replies with a smirk.

“I think Amber confiscated the DVDs and they're now doing duty as bird scarers in the fields.”

“Best place for 'em,” Sam replies, shuddering a little. No way anyone would want to watch them. “Who'd ever have thought that Shaun of the Dead would end up as a documentary?”

“I wish. I could murder a pint right now.”

“I think that's just humanity's natural state now, desperate for a pint. Reckon any pubs remain unlooted?”

Jody raises an eyebrow. “Maybe, but do you want to be the one to suggest it to Janine?”

“Maybe not,” he says, grimacing a little at the idea. He stares at the dinosaurs for a moment, a thought occurring to him, and he chewed his lip pensively. “So, all we need is our very own River Tam to beat up all the zoms.”

“Oi! That's a movie spoiler isn't it? Shut up!”

“Wait, Jody, you haven't seen Serentiy?” He gives her a look of utmost horror because obviously this is the most important thing to consider in the midst of the zombie apocalypse.

She shakes her head. “No. Never got 'round to it. My ex-boyfriend nicked the DVD and then the end of the world happened and getting it back wasn't quite my priority.”

“Right. So you don't know the plot then? How it ends?” And looking at the dinosaurs might just give him a chill. It's not like he believes in omens but...

“No. And don't spoil me. I'm still holding out hope that someone has a copy.”

“Yeah. I mean, maybe. If this apocalypse has made me realise one thing, it's that I wish I'd pirated more stuff when we still had the internet. What're the copyright holders gonna do to me now?”

Jody laughs, her smile brightening. Job well done. “Zombie lawyers?”

“Who could tell the difference, really?”

“Oooh, cruel. Anyway, I've got to go. Training session with Eight. Take care of yourself, Sam.”

“I will do my very bed not to let the comms shack injure me.”

“You do that.”

She closes the door behind herself and Sam stares after her for a moment before turning back to the desk. And the dinosaurs, After a quick check to make sure that Janine isn't hiding in any shadowy corners, he picks up the Stegosaurus. 

“We have reached this land, and we shall call it...”


	2. Chapter 2

When the box of viagra shows up on his comms desk with a label saying 'For the Birthday Boy', it doesn't take a genius to work out who's responsible. 

He finds Simon in the mess (and he's never found out why they call it that; it's actually quite tidy), flirting outrageously with Runner 8 who's enduring it with an amused look and the patience of a Saint. She's good at that. She raises an eyebrow when Sam heads over to them and pushes herself to her feet, stretching.

“I'll leave you to it, Three,” she says, giving Sam a smile as she passes.

“Hello, Sam,” Simon says, grinning widely. Smug git.

“It's not even my _birthday_ ,” he begins and it isn't even anywhere close to what he means to say, but it'll do for a start.

“You sure about that, Sam?” Simon asks, and he's still grinning like a lunatic. Not that that's anything unusual.

The question deflates him a little, because... “Uh... I don't know, actually. What month is it?” They never tell you about this in movies, the complete loss of your sense of time beyond what season it is.

Simon makes a show of looking out of the window. “Well, based on the usual weather of this area of the UK, I'd say... sometime between February and May. Maybe June.”

Bloody English weather.

“Oh. Huh.”

“You could check Rofflenet I suppose.”

“I could do- Oi! Stop trying to distract me!”

Simon gives him this 'who, me?' look that completely fails to be anything approaching innocent.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asks, shoving the box of viagra at him. There's a few titters in the background and Sam feels his face heat up bright scorching red. Okay, so maybe the mess had not been the best choice of venue for this.

“Wow, Sammy. You'd think you'd never been on the internet before the apocalypse.”

“Oh for... what is it doing in my comms room?”

“Present. Obviously.”

Sam (barely) manages to suppress a grow of frustration. “Why do you even have viagra? It's not exactly essential kit.”

“I picked it up on a med run.”

“You...” It takes a moment to process that yes, Simon Lauchlan had actually said that. “Why did you pick up _viagra_?” He demands finally. “It's not like we need antibiotics or actual medical equipment or anything. Oh no, we'll just start a- a cut price online Canadian pharmacy!”

Simon perks up, looking intrigued. “Oooh, that's an idea! We could get Eugene to help!”

Sam just stares at him for a moment, mouth open slightly, not sure whether Simon is joking or deadly serious. The two sometimes seem very similar.

“You alright there Sam? You look like you're catching flies.”

“Are you serious?” Sam asks incredulously. “What are you even going to do with it?”

“Well, I thought maybe we could spike New Canton's water supply. On top of being _hilarious_ , it's really difficult to run with a raging hardon.”

Sam fights to keep from smirking at that mental image, ridiculous as it is, and he knows that he isn't successful because Simon's grin widens. “And you'd know of course.”

“Well,” Simon drawls, leaning back in his chair, legs splayed, “I might once have joined a track and field team because the girls wore really tiny shorts.” He pauses thoughtfully for a second and then, “the men too actually,” and Sam is just not even going to ask.

He's smiling though, can't help it, and it feels good when there's been nothing much to smile about for a while now. “You're an idiot, Three. Just- just don't go off mission like that again.”

Simon leans forward and pokes, actually pokes, his nose. “Got you smiling though, Sammy. Doctor Myers too. Few other people. I call that a win.”

It has been a while since he's smiled like this, it's true. “Alright, that's fair I suppose.”

“Great! Now eat dinner! It's corned beef again.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You never, _never_ turn off your transmitter!”

He's been shouting at Eight for the whole time since she'd returned with Five and he thinks that he's just repeating himself by now. Eight stands there and takes it, her expression placid and amused and that makes it worse, makes him shout louder, voice cracking on the words. Being angry is better than being scared. Being angry makes him feel like he can do something.

She's simultaneously the best and worst person he could be screaming at in the comms shack, his hands trembling. Worst because he's pretty sure that she's capable of snapping him into little pieces without breaking a sweat.

Best because she's just about the most patient, stable person he's ever met, before _or_ after the apocalypse. Simon would make a joke, laugh off every bit of Sam's worry like it meant nothing, while Jody would feel awful and make him feel awful for yelling. Seven would _argue_ him down.

But Eight, Eight lets him spend his anger until he's drained and tired and all he can do is slump on his chair, twisting his headset compulsively between his fingers as he looks at her. He's defeated, he knows that. Probably not even made an impression on her. “So- so don't do it again,” he finishes lamely. “Please?”

It comes out more plaintive than he'd intended and makes him feel every bit the child he tries to pretend he isn't.

“Alright Sam,” she says, giving him a warm look. “I'll do my best.”

“That's not a promise,” Sam says sullenly but he knows that there's not one little thing he can do to make her.

She just raises an eyebrow at him, inscrutable as ever, until he huffs softly and sits back in his chair. “Fine. Just don't get killed okay? It's my job to bring you back safely and I-” 

He doesn't _have_ anything else to hold on to.

“I'll be careful Sam. You know me. I can promise that.”

He looks at her, still a little worried if he's honest. “You are fine right? Just a cough? A normal, every day cough?”

“Just a cough,” she says firmly. “I'll get Maxine to check me over and send you a report if you're that worried.”

“No, no it's fine. I believe you.”

Out of everyone at Abel, she's the one he most trusts to do the right thing if the worst should happen. She'd probably do it herself. And that should be creepy, right? It _would_ have been creepy once. Before. Now it's kind of a relief. 

“Alright then Sam. If we're done, I'll be getting off to clean up a bit.”

“Yeah. Yeah, right. Be safe.” The words come unbidden to his lips so easily these days, inside and outside the gates. Just in case. 

“When am I not?”

“I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he says dryly. Her answer is a soft laugh and a wave as she walks away.

He doesn't get much time to think about it any more, too much to do. He sends another couple of runners out in the afternoon, just a precaution in case New Canton decide to take Eight's taunts personally, but there's no sign of anything outside the norm. There's that kid too, out in the wasteland. He feels like they're chasing ghosts.

Oh god, that's a horrible thought.

Eventually, when he's having trouble keeping his eyes open because the adrenaline has worn off, he goes to eat. He's practically falling asleep over his soup, only saved from an embarrassing faceplant into dinner when Maxine shakes his shoulder and tells him to go to bed.

He grumbles weakly but obeys and heads back to his quarters just off to the side of the commas shack. He's stripped off his shoes and hoodie before he notices the flash of bright purple wrapper on the pillow. He stares for a moment before he can even bring himself to pick it up. Even then he's sure it's a hallucination or something. 

A bar of Cadbury's. There's a word written on the wrapper in black marker. Scarily neat wrtiting too. 

'Sorry'.


End file.
